Breuddwydio
by Eilwen
Summary: [HMC] A collection of [very] short stories about Howl, Sophie, and Howl and Sophie. Written for the romantics, nonplot lovers and to appease boredom. Chapter 4!
1. Bedroom Door

DISCLAIMER: Howl's Moving Castle does not belong to me. Although it would be nice to have a miniature model of the movie version and have it march around my desk. OH WELL.

INTRO: Constructive criticism is greatly accepted as long as 'OMG UR STORY SUX!1111 ONE ONE' is not in there somewhere. This is based entirely from the book with my own additions or slight changes. I might forget certain details too from the real book, so you could... review and tell me?

This chapter is short.

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Chapter One

In Which Howell Opens His Bedroom Door

Howell Jenkins was late for school again.

Megan was no longer in the same room to wake him up so he relied heavily on the alarm clock beside his bed (which could not match up to Megan's annoyingness as it failed to wake him). Clothes littered the floor and somewhere beneath the chaos were his school books. His legs tangled with pants that were not fully on and he had to hold on to the edge of his desk for a second to balance himself.

His father called impatiently downstairs and he could hear his half-deaf, nearly crazy grandmother screaming: 'What? Speak louder!'

He felt incredibly uncomfortable that morning because he did not spend as much time as he would have liked in the bathroom so his hair was slightly unkempt. It was a terrible sin, but alas! School was first priority! He grabbed a comb and attempted to tame a rebellious lock of hair by his eyes and pulled his last text book from under several sheets of paper on his desk.

His grandmother continued to yell that his father should speak louder.

He stumbled towards the door, twisted the knob and fell pathetically into an unpaved street. His first reaction to rub his now sore elbow as it tried to prevent his fall but the sight around him helped him to immediately forget why he was even rubbing it in the first place.

It was not busy street, but an old man nearby watched him with curious eyes. The sky above his head was a healthy morning blue in contrast to the grey and cold pitter patter on the window behind him in his bedroom. The buildings on this alien world beyond this door loomed above him, though very modestly. No structure was more prominent than the other beside it and each was very small. In the distance, the ocean calmly carried several fishing boats and seagulls cried as they disappeared when they flew below white clouds. At the end of the street, a horse was heading towards him, cuing Howell to hurriedly pull himself back into his bedroom where all things sane and normal resided and quickly shut his door before his poor heart could explode in his chest.

There would be days after that where he would open and shut his door repeatedly and peak into a tackily decorated hallway, wondering at what he really witnessed that day.

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AUTHOR'S RAMBLE:

It would be very funny for Howell's dad to be walking and looking at Howell open and close his door for no reason. I like the idea of Howl's first encounter with magic and such was a complete accident and his interest in such things would grow from that accident.

About Howl's/Howell's name:

For stories about his past or whatever is in Howl's mind, I will use Howell as it seems more personal. For stories about his present/future and life with Sophie etc I will use Howl. I hope you do not get too confused.


	2. Shooting Stars

DISCLAIMER: Howl's Moving Castle does not belong to me. Although it would be nice to have a miniature model of the movie version and have it march around my desk. OH WELL.

My own story makes me laugh. The title reminds me of bread. Anyway, after this chapter, I have another one prepared but after that, I might have to take a break for my exams. Why am I writing fan fiction when I should be studying? Well, I only write when I am on a break so that is a small explanation why my chapters are currently insanely short.

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Chapter Two

In Which a Demon Suggests a Contract on the Spot

Howell Jenkins was never a poet. He loved poetry but if given a pen, he would not be able to write anything worth reading. Yet, as he watched the stars seemed 'like falling angels' disappearing as they touched the grass. Falling stars were merely rocks from space that enter the atmosphere where he came from, but here they were dying demons disappearing without any remembrance as soon they touched the grass.

The sea stretched for miles before coming to an abrupt stop when it touched the night sky. It was a cold night and fog rolled thickly around him, occasionally glowing ghostly when a star disappeared among it with a sizzle. Little bands of light loosened themselves off the black sky one by one though few still and descend gracefully. Several hit the water, creating a splash and a flash of white before a soft sizzle.

He looked rather ridiculous, in his opinion, wearing very plain clothes and boots that looked like leather buckets on his feet. The grass was soft and wet under his boots and he was sinking slightly into the ground.

But he felt lucky.

In his hands, he held a frightened demon. The demon's eyes flickered in fear and curiosity as it warmed his fingers. Sympathy was with it. This one did not seem to want to die like the others. Instead, it clung on for life in Howell's hands. With the demon's warmth, he did not need a jacket in the cool fog.

"How about making a contract with me?"

He had no feeling in his fingers or arms even as the demon ate away at his sleeves. It was oddly comforting. He bent his head slightly to look firmly into the demon's eyes.

"Tell me about it."

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AUTHOR'S RANTS: Even shorter than the previous chapter and is less than a page in MS Word. Calcifer's only line is practically a copy of his 'How about making a bargain with me?' to Sophie in Chapter 3 of the book. I am slightly dissatisfied with it so I might go edit it again someday. Comments greatly accepted. The movie version of this scene was pretty. The next chapter should be up very very soon. 


	3. Exploding Trees

DISCLAIMER: Howl's Moving Castle does not belong to me. Although it would be nice to have a miniature model of the movie version and have it march around my desk. OH WELL.

It is time to actually bring in Sophie. I have a fascination about Howl's childhood though so I might have many chapters dedicated to him. I realised that hardly anyone mentions Sophie's past. I guess it is because it does not seem as interesting. I think I want to write a small story on it then.

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Chapter Three

In Which There is a Thunderstorm

Sophie's eyes were wide open in the dark, staring at the familiar silhouette that lay beside her. Slowly and rhythmically, it rose up and down with a soft sigh each time. She had memorized that sleeping figure, by heart; for she saw it every night, apart from nights when they fought and the figure would stubbornly sleep facing away from her. With a brilliant flash, Howl's sleeping face was revealed, calm and unfettered, before returning to a dark silhouette.

It was heavily pouring in Wales and coincidentally in Market Chipping so the entire castle was entirely dark apart from the occasional cracks of thunder and lightning. Calcifer gave the room downstairs a cool and eerie glow creating sharp shadows wherever the light landed. Sophie, however, was not there to see this for she was lying comfortably in her and Howl's room.

Sleep was hard to come across for her. This was obviously not true for Howl. He always had a peaceful look on his face whenever he slept. She simply lay there beside him, curled into a comfortable ball watching the outline of a breathing man.

The outline suddenly moved so unexpectedly that Sophie nearly gave a jump. Howl's shadow sat up and turned to face the other side of the bed, mumbling to a much smaller silhouette beside the bed.

"I cannot sleep," Morgan's voice quivered from the shadows.

Howl reached out and held Morgan as he quickly and clumsily climbed onto the bed and settled himself on Howl's lap. A flash of lightning came followed by the deep rumble of thunder and Morgan immediately wrapped his small arms around Howl.

Howl turned to Sophie and explained, "I guess he could sleep here for the night."

"Just do not make it a habit," she replied, knowing Morgan very well. Sophie could have been imagining that Howl gave her a smile but the darkness hid everything.

Morgan whimpered in Howl's arms, obviously seeking attention. _He seems to have gained from his father_, Sophie thought.

"I don't like thunderstorms," he mumbled innocently into his father's shirt.

"Neither do I." Sophie frowned at Howl for commenting. They should be sleeping, not swapping stories. "When I went to school, a lightning struck one of the trees in the yard. The tree seemed to just light up and everyone had crowded to the window. I never saw the tree that got struck by lightning and I thought it was going to die or it might strike the school and light everyone up too. The tree was alive and the school never lit up like it. Some of the bark flew off the tree though. After a long time, the tree eventually healed and left an interesting scar at the side."

"It should've exploded." Morgan mumbled again. "Michael said that he saw a tree that exploded once when lightning hit it."

There was a loud 'hmph'. "Well, I see my stories are not up to your standards anymore, Mr. Jenkins." Howl indignantly replied. "I should finish telling you any more since you seemed to be more satisfied with Michael's exploding trees."

This caused Morgan to give a strange whimper and tugged on Howl's sleeves.

The conversation seemed to comfort him, since Morgan detached himself from Howl and settled between the both of them without any saying. Sophie shifted slightly so he could fit, though it was not needed as Morgan was still a very small boy. He curled into a tight ball as Howl lazily lifted the blanket to keep him warm. It was clear that Howl was still very sleepy. He had been up for two days with barely any sleep working on something for the king, but he did not seem frustrated one bit at the disturbance.

To brilliantly break the cosiness and odd comfort of the room, Howl broke into the saucepan song, to which the lightning and thunder graciously responded to with a loud clap. Sophie could not help but laugh and Morgan, more because Sophie was laughing and not because it was funny to him, laughed too.

"My family laughs at me when I sing," Howl said no one. He gave a loud sigh and Morgan giggled again.

Howl fell back into his pillow and returned to his usual sleeping position, the song still being sung. It soon changed into a tired hum then disappeared completely, and the rhythmic breathing returned followed by a softer version, signalling that both of them had returned to sleep.

Sophie stroked her son's hair. The darkness turned even darker and she drifted into a comfortable slumber.

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AUTHOR'S REMARKS: I think I gave Morgan sufficient personality in this story. I was afraid I was going to make him just 'Howl and Sophie's kid' with no focus. Children laugh at a lot of nonsense I have learnt. Reviews appreciated. Haha. Exploding Trees.

While I was listening to my music while typing this chapter, I had a strange image of an iPod ad with Howl's silhouette in it. Oh my. Credits go to Wikipedia for the exploding trees thing.


	4. Hands

DISCLAIMER: Howl's Moving Castle does not belong to me. Although it would be nice to have a miniature model of the movie version and have it march around my desk. OH WELL.

I will find time to do some editing soon. These days have been very busy for me. Sigh.

This chapter was so much fun to write and such a pain. It had gone through a lot of editing and polishing and I think it is pretty okay although I might edit it a bit later. I guess this is the first 'romance' in this fan fiction, although I think love is more expressed in everything that just the hugs and kisses. I did not want to write a story that had too much fluff and sugar when I started this but the occasional cavity is all right.

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Chapter Four  
In Which Sophie Observes Howl's Hands

Sophie never really paid attention to Howl's hands.

Even when he stroked her hair, or performed a spell, she was mostly fascinated by his green eyes. His eyes were like an ocean that swallowed and drowned her. She loved their slight glimmer when he was amused with something, almost like a child, or the concentrated stare whenever he was busy with a spell.

Even when he caressed her face, she would look shyly away and focus on his chest, breathing deeply like hers. With her hands on it, she felt the fast heartbeat that matched hers, reminding her once again of the heart's return.

And even when he hugged her, his arms completely wrapped around her and securing her, she buried her face into his shoulder and focused on his scent. On lucky days, she would not smell his usual flowery scent but a different, somewhat gingery scent. Even though both smells fogged her mind, she always preferred his natural smell for obvious reasons.

But she never really thought of his hands.

It was only when Sophie's stomach gradually grew with her first child did she really notice them. Howl was absolutely ecstatic about the idea of being a father and his eyes were no longer fixed on only her but on their new coming baby. With his head down, she focused on his long fingers that made patterns on her stomach as his eyes were not in view.

As he muttered complete nonsense to the unborn child, she stared at the long and bony fingers. His short nails were impeccable, without any sign of dirt which contrasted completely with hers. Her consistent cleaning had developed a roughness in her hands and her nails definitely needed some care. When he placed his hand over hers on her stomach, she noted how small her hands were compared to his.

"I like your hands," she said very seriously to him one day. It seemed to be something that slipped from her mouth because as soon as she said that, her eyes widened a bit and shy quickly looked away as busied herself with whatever she was doing. Howl was surprised by this.

"Is that so?" He responded with a sly grin trying to eliminate her embarrassment. "Well, I can see why. They do many things to you, don't they?" And he boldly laid them on her hips and he kissed her cheek.

She snorted but allowed him to hug her and bury his face into her red hair. Her eyes closed and she secretly smiled, the flowery smell intoxicating her. "Don't be so cocky Howl. Your hands are not the greatest things in Ingary."

"But they seem to have caught your attention so it is close enough." Then, he very calmly muttered into her hair and said very simply, "I like your hands too."

Sophie could not help but blush. She looked away and focused on something else in the room. "Liar. Look at them. They are rough and need a good washing."

"Sophie," Howl frowned and there was slight hurt in his voice for such an accusation. "Your hands are not perfect and, unfortunately, I would not care if they were."

Sophie looked up in surprise. With a sigh, Howl held his right hand out for her to look closely and pointed at what seemed to be a particularly random area on his hand before he said: "Look, right here on my hand. See that little callous? I hold my pen a little differently than most people and the pen rests here. It's a pretty ugly mark, isn't it?"

Sophie wondered how she missed it. It was very faint but still there: a slight bump although it did not terribly mar his hands. In fact, she liked them even more. It was not a battle scar but a mark that was the outcome of something as simple as writing. Why did Howl not remove it? He was such a perfectionist with his appearance after all.

He did not say why and Sophie did not ask why. Even if she wanted to know, Howl had already left and returned to his own business, leaving her to hers. She smiled.

The next time he caressed her cheek, instead of focusing on something else, she closed her eyes and concentrated on his gentle touch as he made small circles at the side of her lips with his thumb.

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AUTHOR'S COMMENTS:

Wow, I love hands. Men love hips and legs. I love nice hands. Oooh yeah. Howl smells like ginger? Oh dear. As for the reason why Howl kept this callous...

And thank you for all your reviews. I'll fix whatever is necessary when I find more free time. Until then!


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